


The Talk of the Office

by orphan_account



Series: 2255 [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), and various others - Fandom
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Fluff, Multi, Omega!John, This is pointless, a different direction for me, again i'm so sorry, all of the ships, harry potter characters cameo, i am on a fluff kick, i should be working on the main story, just a fact in the overall story, not this crap, pray it's not contagious, so does destiel, technically soulmates but its not mentioned in this particular story, woohoo!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-21 06:49:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/897148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There  were certain stereotypes about omegas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Talk of the Office

**Author's Note:**

> I really should be working on the next chapter of HHS. This was written instead of that. I'm sorry.  
> *also, I am completely bullshitting these military ranks. If you want to corrct/guide me, I'm more than willing. I just chose what sounded impressive and was about where they were in the Rebellion.

There  were certain stereotypes about omegas.

Nothing bad, mind you, just...

Well, just stereotypes, okay?

For instance: omegas tended not to lead. 

That wasn't to say they couldn't make there own desicions, it just happened that no one could really think of an omega that held a high ranking leading position. In fact, the last leader of the UK was before the Chitauri invaded, and was a curious woman by the name of Tonks. The woman sported bright pink hair in most of her pictures and had gotten married to a recluse of a man that half the country was convinced was a werewolf. Not a shining example of omega leadership, agreed? Then again, her approval ratings were damn near unprecedented, so there was something to be said for that.

Tony Stark of the East USA Rebellion, while a much better if not exactly  _saner_ example of omega leadership, technically co-lead with his husband, Captain Rogers. No one was exactly sure of Captain Kirk's presentation, and they had even less of a clue how alpha/omega relations worked with Vulcans, so nothing could be said about his and Commander Spock's relationship, as tabloid- and Titanic-worthy as it was.

And...what was I saying? Oh, yes, stereotypes. 

Omegas also tended to lean towards a leaner muscle and fluidity, rather than brute strength. There were several exceptions: Dean Winchester, a fielder for the East USA army, was one that cam roaring to the front of the mind. He was a heavy hitter in Rebellion-Chitauri skirmishes, could overpower the average Rebellion agent, and regularly worked out with Captain Rogers. Castiel, a spy for the East USA, was barely on par with him strength-wise, though beat him in a public sparring match through the fluidity most omegas are known for and arguably underhanded and slightly sexual tactics. 

All of these, kept people on their toes, and taught the lesson that while some people fit stereotypes to a tee, others took them and tossed them ass-first off a cliff.

John Watson, of course, was the one to not only toss them, but to send a couple open cases of knives out after them.

He was Captain of the British Rebellion's Hit Squad 221B, as well as Second-in-Command of their South London Division, under Major Lestrade. He could hold his own for a solid ten minutes against both Special Agent Bond, Agent Carter, and a level D Chitauri drone. He knew his way around several types of weapons, being particularly deadly with guns. He could lift several pounds above his body weight, topping several alpha agents' personal best. Add all that to the fact that his appearance resembled that of a paricularly surly yet adorable hedgehog? Well, John Watson wasn't an omega to be forgotten.

"Are you even sure he's an omega?" Jack Harkness asked Molly Hooper, perched on the scientist's desk. "I mean, what's the actual proof?"

"He came and asked me for extra  _heat_ suppressants!" Molly insisted.

"And before you say that could have been for someone else," Rose Tyler jumped in. "He and Molly had to go around half the division to get a match for his blood type, finally finding out that I matched."

"He does have a sister," Lestrade jumped in. "A  _fraternal_ sister."

"Exactly," Jack nodded. "Fraternal twins can have matching blood types without presenting as the same thing!"

"Maybe he's a beta," Bond said, speaking for the first time in the conversation.

"Maybe he would also prefer if you would not talk about him in such a manner," a voice said from the door of Molly's office. Molly squeaked and Jack nearly fell off the desk, everyone else jumping. A man stood at the door, tall and cold and dark and every bit how people probably first pictured a vampire. His coat, a long thick black affair, didn't help much either.

"We apologize, of course," Lestrade recovered first. "It's just a bit of a shock."

"Obvious," the man said, still cold. "Sherlock Holmes. Would you happen to know the location of the subject of your conversation?"

"D-Downstairs, in Dexter Training Room," Molly told him, trying to keep her voice level. Sherlock nodded sharply, turning and marching out the door, snapping it shut behind him.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when his footsteps faded into the silence. "Well he's a charming fellow, isn't he?" Rose grinned, getting a round of soft laughter.

"Unsettling, is what he is," Lestrade admitted. "What do you think he want Watson for?"

"That's Watson's alpha," Molly told the room at large.

Bond rolled his eyes as the other men groaned. "You can't still be convinced he's an omega, can you?" Jack demanded.

"I think you just have a soft spot for dark hair and pale skin," Bond teased her, making Molly blush.

Jack snorted. "You're one to talk, Bond. Don't you have a dark haired beauty of your own to be banging?" Bond glared at him.

"We'll ask him later, and see," Rose replied decisively.

In the Dexter training room, John Watson pounded away on a punching bag, sweating and shaking from hours of effort, his shorts and shirt sticking to his skin. Sherlock watched from the door, admiring the view. He frowned after a beat, unsure if he'd seen what he thought he had. When John stumbled again, Sherlock walked over and wrapped his arms around him from behind, pulling him gently away from the bag. John stiffened, then relaxed when he realized who it was.

"I was in the middle of something, you know," John complained. He sounded sleepy already.

"And you were doing wonderfully," Sherlock indulged him, like John had on so many occasions for him. "But you need a break. Don't want to pull a muscle do you?" He rubbed over the scarring gunshot wound in the smaller man's left shoulder for emphasis. It's cousin, a jagged line of a knife wound, sat on his right upper thigh. Both had been gotten a month ago in the field, from a surprise Chitauri raid. They'd been successful, but John had been near death, close to losing not one but two limbs. He'd just gottne back to actively working, and insisted on jumping back in head first. He always tried so hard not to fit into the molds of the typical omega, constantly shocking everyone around him, even Sherlock to a degree. 

"No, Sherlock," John responded, slurred speech a repeat from the multiple times they'd had this conversation. "I..." He slumped against Sherlock, asleep. Sherlock checked his watch. They had time before the last armoured train left the station, but only if they started walking now. He smiled down at John, lips parted in his sleep, then picked him up. Might as well start walking, then. John sighed, shifting and curling into a ball in his arms. 

 _My soldier, my John_ , Sherlock thought proudly, and started climbing the stairs.

**Author's Note:**

> REVIEW!


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